The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-08-20
"AND WHAT WOULD YOU D0?''
BY FANNIE Il. GALLAGHER.

The question went around the circle
but for moment no one answered. Mrs.
Bonny, our bright-faced hostess put it
again, while knitting, crochet and needle
work dropped from the fingers that held
them.
"If your husband, father or brother
were taken away or we're unable to sup
port you what would you do9"
"What would you do, Mrs. Boyd9' ad-
dressing the eldest of our number.
"What would do I cannot say. Cir
cumstances would have to determine.
That I'd do something know full we'll,
and so think do you all"
OF that we were all sure; for though
Mrs. Boyds sweet pale face, with it's puffs
of "holy hair" was always suggestive OF
calm and quiet spirit, "fond of peace and
far from strife" or hustle or activity, as
we all knew she was the one who de-
vised the plans, shouldered the RESPONSE
bility and assisted in carrying out the de-
tails of all our benevolent and social prof.
ects; her soft, white hand we knew well
could and would deal hard blows for neces-
sity's sake, should there be necessity.
"But I can tell you what one woman
did," Mrs. Boyd continued. "She was
left as one of us may be left tomorrow,
by turn of fortunes wheel, to face the
world for herself. Her home had been
one of wealth, her hospitality unbound
ed, her entertainments perfect. What
can I do to support myself and chill
dren?' she asked despairingly. What
can you do best? asked her friend, L?
nothing, unless she added with bitter
laugh, unless it be to give dinner par
ties Then give dinner parties was the
answer. How many ladies here in this
very city have envied you your skill In
planning, experimenting and carrying
through an elaborate dinnerl How many
of them would pay you your own price II
you would stand behind the scenes and
do for them what you can do 80 well.
"It was hard, but common sense whis-
pered You can do it, And do it she did
in her own, sweet lady-like way. She call
ed upon her friends, upon acquaintance
and strangers ladies who were accus-
toned to give more or less elaborate en-
tertainments told them Of her purpose,
and before three months had passed she
had more engagements than she could
fulfill. She would call day or two
before the entertainment, consult and
suggest, then do her own marketing,
make her own purchases, and on the
eventful day, in her own incompatible
way, serve up dinner fit for a prince"
"That reminds me of Cousin Betty's
chicken pies" remarked Mrs Bright.
Tell u.s." cried the rest.
"She too, had to ask, And what shall l
do?' and she asked it of the lady who
superintended the Woman's Exchange.
Some one seemed to have been ahead OF
her in every line, and she sighed for a
field of work not already filed and in
which she was capable of working. For
what did your friends praise you most
when you kept houseY asked the lady
in charge. For my chicken pies, an
swered Betty, with laugh. Bring me
chicken pie, then. by tomorrow at half
past eleven, and I'll sell it for you"
"That first pie appeared, smoking, on
time, and at one o'clock P. M, the empty
dish was returned to the Woman's Ex-
change, with this written order: Send
me Just such pie each Wednesday this
year, unless a contrary order is received.
aThe contrary order never came, and
as this is Wednesday" laughed Mrs.
Bright, at 43 Westminster street, they
have doubtless dined, as they have for
five years past, on one OF Betty's chicken
pies. She buys her chickens now by the
hundred, has orders weeks ahead, and
sends them all over the city. Her latest
device in that direction is to make them
in tiny pans, holding just enough for
two people, and next time you pass
Hoffman's I advise you to go in and
order one"
'That reminds me of Molly Berry and
the work she has found to do"
said Mrs. Bascomb. "She was always
delicate girl, though quick and tasteful
and very nimble fingered. She earns her
living to day by busting bric-a-brac for
dozen families. 1t is no easy matter to
keep in dustless order a modern draw
ing room with its costly and fragile orna-
ments, SO she goes from house to house
arranges, dusts and cares for all these
pretty things, makes fresh bouquets, and
leaves her owe dainty touches on every
thing. Best of all, Molly's patrons are
her friends, and love and respect her just
as we do, who have known her all our
lives"
Said Mrs. Boyd, There's Polly Bone
the washerwoman's daughter, who Is de.
formed, you know, and could never
do hard work. She earns good living
cleaning lamps. Goes from house to
store, from. store to Office, carries her own
pail, cloths and shears, and leaves every
thing shining, am told"